A sparkly goodbye
In less than 24 hours...Peace out to my ladies.
It's a weird feeling, the last 24 hours with an entire part of my body still ON my body. I'm hoping I get to a place of loving my new self in the same way I've been able to love this one so fully. I was blessed to have been brought up by parents who allowed me to be me, completely, and who encouraged me to love who I was and the body I was in, no matter what it looked like and no matter what I did to it.
Through years of active life and relatively permanent choices, I've accumulated a good number of tattoos, scars from old piercings and living life, a few stretch marks, a pretty impressive degree of cellulite and enough freckles for roughly 12-80 people. My eyelashes are so naturally light that they are basically clear and my eyebrows took a pretty permanent hit from my teenage over-tweezing years. But, I love it ALL.
One of the most emotional times I've had recently was talking to my plastic surgeon, a man who I am so blessed to have as part of my surgical team and someone who seems to dedicate his life to giving people body parts when they couldn't keep the originals. But, I want to keep mine. The scarred nipples from old piercings and the boobs that blew up to DD's while I was pregnant and promptly deflated when I stopped pumping milk for Evie. The left boob that now has a bright red scar from where the biopsies happened a month ago. I still want those. I want what it all means and how it represents my life.
I remember a conversation I had about 14 or 15 years ago with a friend and co-worker, Tammy, whose daughter had beautiful and intricate body art but was told, BY STRANGERS, "you'd be so beautiful if you didn't have all those tattoos." Her daughter responded that she was beautiful BECAUSE of the art and it stuck with me. I've always felt that our bodies can represent who we are in such profound ways and I'm really sad that my representation will be changing, because I really want to keep the story that my body tells.
But, in the meantime, I'm going to rock these sparkly palm trees for the rest of the day and think about taking some farewell selfies of my boobs.
It's a weird feeling, the last 24 hours with an entire part of my body still ON my body. I'm hoping I get to a place of loving my new self in the same way I've been able to love this one so fully. I was blessed to have been brought up by parents who allowed me to be me, completely, and who encouraged me to love who I was and the body I was in, no matter what it looked like and no matter what I did to it.
Through years of active life and relatively permanent choices, I've accumulated a good number of tattoos, scars from old piercings and living life, a few stretch marks, a pretty impressive degree of cellulite and enough freckles for roughly 12-80 people. My eyelashes are so naturally light that they are basically clear and my eyebrows took a pretty permanent hit from my teenage over-tweezing years. But, I love it ALL.
One of the most emotional times I've had recently was talking to my plastic surgeon, a man who I am so blessed to have as part of my surgical team and someone who seems to dedicate his life to giving people body parts when they couldn't keep the originals. But, I want to keep mine. The scarred nipples from old piercings and the boobs that blew up to DD's while I was pregnant and promptly deflated when I stopped pumping milk for Evie. The left boob that now has a bright red scar from where the biopsies happened a month ago. I still want those. I want what it all means and how it represents my life.
I remember a conversation I had about 14 or 15 years ago with a friend and co-worker, Tammy, whose daughter had beautiful and intricate body art but was told, BY STRANGERS, "you'd be so beautiful if you didn't have all those tattoos." Her daughter responded that she was beautiful BECAUSE of the art and it stuck with me. I've always felt that our bodies can represent who we are in such profound ways and I'm really sad that my representation will be changing, because I really want to keep the story that my body tells.
But, in the meantime, I'm going to rock these sparkly palm trees for the rest of the day and think about taking some farewell selfies of my boobs.
I remember that!! Love you brave girl!!!
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